


Things That Count

by sc010f



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Penis Size
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:57:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4837781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sc010f/pseuds/sc010f
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony wants to make a jockstrap for Hulk. Bruce thinks it might be a bit much, but while Hulk isn't known for being subtle, Bruce is. Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things That Count

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure I'm not the only person to have thought of this. Forgive me. A small fic for the small dick fic challenge.

Bruce has many things to worry about other than the relative size of his penis. The Other Guy, for one, obviously, and the ever present danger to life and limb that inhabiting a space with Tony seems to engender. The Avenging part of his life is dangerous and worry-inducing as well, of course. So penis length, girth, whatever, is not particularly of concern to him.

It might, however, begin to work its way up the list of "things Bruce worries about more than once a day". Which is ridiculous, really. He's gotten by for the last forty-some years without too much obsession over dick size: a few uncomfortable days in middle school and a week in high school, once with Betty, but that's not something he really wants to even remotely consider. But here's Tony, talking about relative sizing factors and expanded growth and a "Hulk strap". 

"A jock strap for the Hulk?" Bruce asks. 

"Yes! As part of my super expandable Hulk Pants design! So, what size?" Tony turns to the desk and throws holograms up, holograms of jock straps and Hulk. Specifically Hulk's… groin area.

"Uh. I haven't measured Hulk's… uh, groin," Bruce says. He's not particularly prudish, by any stretch of the imagination, but there is such a thing, he thinks, as personal modesty. He flushes uncomfortably, remembering all the times he's been The Other Guy with his dick hanging out (or not, all things considered). 

"…Bruce?" Tony pokes him.

"Ouch! What the hell, Tony?"

"Drop trou, I want to measure your inseam."

"Tony, nobody but frat boys from the 1980's says 'drop trou'."

"And the fact that you know that is enlightening in and of itself."

"I haven't always been a green rage monster, Tony. I _was_ a grad student, once. And a post-doc."

"So you know the metaphorical language of my people. That's one new thing I've learned about you. Pepper keeps saying I need to pay attention to other people, which is ridiculous, because people are ridiculous. Except you. Which, now that I know that, I might change my opinion, but we'll see. Anyway, the point is, DOCTOR Banner, I want you to drop your pants so I can get DUM-E to take measurements."

"God, Tony. Will you be quiet if I do?"

"Of course!" Tony mimes zipping his lips.

Bruce sighs and unbuckles his belt. 

"Boxers, too."

"Fine, Tony. Be patient." Bruce obliges, his pants and boxers a warm puddle around his freezing feet. There were some benefits to being The Other Guy: being more or less indifferent to cold lab floors was high up on that list.

"Shirt?" Tony asks.

"No. You have what you need."

"But, your shirttail is in the way. I can't see it!" Tony protests.

Oh, God. Why didn't Bruce see this coming? Tony Stark, Freudian poster child.

"Tony is this your really unsubtle way of asking to see my dick?" Bruce asks. He's really trying very hard not to go green (thanks for that phraseology, Tony), but it's difficult. The bastard doesn't even blush. 

"I gotta know, though. Is it… proportional? 'Cuz that's really, um…" 

"Proportional to what?" Bruce knows the answer, and Tony knows he knows, but for fuck's sake, Tony. 

"You know. To the… Other Guy. I mean, obviously it grows, but we've always been super busy when you change over. It gets lost in the, uh… shuffle."

* * *

"I had no idea," Tony says over the intercom. He's safe in the Hulk Viewing Station over the lab. Scattered around Bruce is the remnants of a lab bench and some computer cables and smoking CPUs. 

Bruce crawls to his feet and squints up at the HVS. 

"We will not discuss this again," he declares quietly.

"No, no of course not," Tony hastily agrees. 

Bruce picks his way out of the wreckage of the room as the bots zoom in to undo the damage. He wants a snack and a nap and not to be around Tony.

* * *

"You okay there?" Clint asks.

"Hmm? Of course," Bruce replies, flipping the page of his magazine. 

"Only, you're kind of… naked," Clint says. 

"Yes, I am," Bruce agrees.

"Any particular reason why? I mean, I'm kind of with you there, dude. The number of times I've been caught bare assed is kind of high, but, uh…"

"Hmm? Oh, no," Bruce says. "No reason."

"Okay, then." Clint shifts as if he wants to say something, and Bruce tracks the movement out of the corner of his eye, but nothing else comes, and Bruce turns his attention back to the magazine.

Natasha and Thor pass through the kitchen about fifteen minutes later and do not comment on Bruce's nudity. Half an hour later, Steve asks him if he's cold. 

"Nope," says Bruce, popping the "p". 

When Bruce gets up to get a refill of his tea, Bucky is crouched on the countertop. Bruce starts in surprise, but not so much that he'll do damage to anything: Bucky and Clint do the "silent creepy observing" thing pretty regularly, so it's not unusual to find one of them crouched and staring in odd places. 

"Doc," Bucky says.

"Bucky," Bruce replies. 

Bruce gets some more tea and wanders out of the kitchen, brushing past Tony in the doorway.

Tony goes ashen. 

"Bruce, uh… hi," he stammers. 

"Tony."

"Do you uh… want to…" Seeing Tony at a loss for words is one of the most beautiful experiences of Bruce's life.

"No."

"Okay. Right. Right. Of course. Uh, there's no house rule about the kitchen being a 'required pants zone' so… uh…"

Bruce leaves Tony spluttering in the doorway.

* * *

"And how was _your_ day?" Darcy asks as she hangs up her scarf. "Oh. Okay, wow. That good, huh?"

She's pink cheeked and adorable from the cold winter outside and Bruce can't help smiling. 

"Tony was being invasive," he said. "Nothing that unusual, really."

"Only something that's driven you to be lounging naked on the couch," Darcy says. "Not that I mind. It's just usually, you let me, like, unwrap the package."

"I'm trying to prove a point."

"Uh… okay." Darcy scrunches up her nose. 

"…about size." Bruce stretches, wigging his toes against the armrest. 

"Oh. Wow. Um… So, is this like a private party? Or can anyone play?" Darcy grins at him.

* * *

_To: The Big Guy (and Bruce),_

_Pepper tells me that size doesn't matter, and I guess she's kind of right. I mean, I bought, like, 70% of her dildo and vibrator collection (it's a gift that keeps on giving), so I guess I should know._

_Anyway, I'm very sorry for insulting your (and Bruce's) manhood the other day and I hereby promise never to ask invasive or embarrassing questions again. Please tell Bruce I'm very sorry and if he wants a Hulk Strap he can have one without having a fitting session with me, and that you both have a lovely penis, but I would really appreciate not ever seeing it again and that the kitchen is now definitely not a clothing-optional zone._

_Love,  
Tony_

_PS – please never, ever, ever let Darcy tell me about your sex life ever again. I never thought I'd be a prude, but the thought of you too getting freaky (and wow, that's pretty freaky, I gotta say) is too scarring to even contemplate, especially if I don't get to play. In short, you win._

_-TS_


End file.
